sushi

Question: What does a woman with too much time on her hands do?
Answer: See picture.

One of the things I bought yesterday in Corte Ingles (which lead to monkey arms - see last blog) was a suchi making set. Firstly, it is obvious I have too much time on my hands by the sheer fact that I noticed said set on shelves. I remember the days when I would fly round Waitrose (Holloway Road, London) like a woman possessed, honing in on products like a condor. When I was working I did not have time to aimlessly amble around supermarkets wondering what new products were lining the shelves. I would have decided on the tube home from the office what I wanted to eat that night, done a Rain Man like check through the contents of my kitchen cupboards (in my mind of course), realised what was missing for newly chosen dinner and swoop upon waitrose like there was a war about to start. This was because every minute in the supermarket was a minute not spent socialising, pampering, talking on the phone, watching tv, going to the gym......generally enjoying life. The split of hours between work and lesiure just never seemed right. However, I now please myself virtually all of the time! Whoo Hoo! It can't last. something will happen - I just know it. I'll end up having the most boisterous, attention demanding children that have ever walked this planet.

Back to the sushi. Living the life that enables you to notice sushi making sets in the deepest corners of a supermarket also enables you to toss about in the kitchen actually trying to make sushi. I must admit that my attempts are not great, the rolls are not exactly equal looking on each end and so obviously the better side is showing on the photos. However, I think my attempts are passable for a test run.

You will note that I ahven't gone to town on the fillers. I wasn't going to waste expensive produce on the first roll. It could ahve ended up on the floor for all I knew. So, just a 1 euro mango and abit of red pepper have been inserted for now. I will continue in this new found hobbie and I will improve and become more adventurous (she repeats to herself in a mantra like manner).

I am sure I will become good at this because its not too disimilar to rolling something else I can think of. Which I mastered at age 15 and never lost the talent for. There are knacks with these things that come with time. I'll get there in the end.

The sushi has been made, by the way, to accompany tonight's Spain v France game in the world cup. Jose will need food which is edible from the coffee table by the sofa. He has already made that request. It was requested for all world cup games but I negotiated him down to just England and Spain games. For any other games we shall eat at the table like normal civilised human beings and then retire to the sofa for the rest of the game. A fair deal I thought.

S xx

monkey business

I feel like a monkey today. I know I can be a cheeky monkey but I am refering to my arms. I went to the gym today for the first time since, ooh about March or April, and I think I overdid it really. Or maybe it was the shoping afterwards. I normally follow a session at the gym with a session at Corte Ingles, as said shop is nicely positioned between gym and home. Would be silly not to pop in when passing. Anyway, I bought lots of food. I usually by treat food from Corte Ingles, as its kind of like buying your food from selfridges - you just don't. Actaully its not that bad on price, she says defending her habits. I digress.

I subsequently walked home laden with jars of fancy mushrooms (one of which I smashed on Cort Ingles floor - whoops), peaches in wine, sushi making kits .....and other goodies. By golly were the bags heavy.....but I absolutel refuse to get a taxi. I force myself to walk everywhere. After climbing Machu Pichu successfully you can hardly moan at eight blocks with heavy shopping bags, come on!

The monkey arms have been further stretched today by a jaunt to the cheapo shop to buy five litres of drinking water and five litres of water for the iron. Add to that a bag of fruit and veg from the local fruiteria and you get the picture. I don't know, maybe I'm feeble in the arms department. My arms are not exactly thickly set. They are no long though, longer than before.

S xx

Llamas and alpacas

There is so much to say about my trip to Peru that I have decided to tackle single elements, rather than attempt to convey all of my thoughts in one blog. Today's subject is of a wooly nature.

Being from Yorkshire, I am used to seeing wooly backed creatures in nearly as much abundance as humans. In fact, yorkshiremen are often accused of loving their sheep more than their fellow men. I'm not sure that our affinity with sheep goes this far, although I wouldn't be surprised if a sheep was picked before a chap from "the wrong side of pennines" (Lancashire) by a yorkshireman faced with the old small lifeboat and crowd of people/animals to save addage, pero bueno (as the Spanish would say). Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that I wasn't overly surprised at the quantity of wool wandering around.

As you can see from the photos, we went to a LLama / Alpaca sanctury, in an attempt to familiarise ourselves with the varieties of the species. However, I'm afraid no one really quite got the hang of it. There are so many different types! Llamas and alpacas are effectively brothers from what I can see, but I can't remember who their parents were in the vast family tree of wool. The family tree showed that within both the Llama and the Alpaca group there are many different types - this is what makes each one that passes you by difficult to name. You see one that you think is definitely a llama and then his fury friend walks by who defintely doesn't look like an alpaca, but yet doesn't look like the one you thought was a llama. Its all down to hairstyles really. There are rastas even in the llama/alpaca world!

my distinguishing rule of thumb was as follows: thoe with mad hair dos are llamas, and those which look more like sheep (albeit with very long legs and necks) are alpacas. Its the later that have the most expensive wool, and so are more valuable. Wool aside, their value in Cusco seems to be related to their ability to smile for the camera. A traditionally dressed woman or child is no one in the tourist photo industry if she doesn't have a llama or alpaca at her side.

One story related to llamas that I didn't much like was the one about the sacrifices that takes place every year up at the temples just outside Cusco. These sacrifices are part of Inka festivals that are still practiced today (in a more moderate way). The heart of a llama is cut out whilst the llama is still alive and if it is still beating when outside of the body, then the following year will be a good one. A good luck charm you might say - not for the bloody llama!

S xx

still recovering

I am STILL recovering from the stag and hen weekend! God, I can't party like I used to. Well, I can, as you can see from the photos, I just take longer to recover.

The photos here are of me with the gyrating special guest that turned up (thanks to my friends!), Jose's cousin with the female special guest and Jose and his brother Xabi singing the Catalan anthem below the disco ball at approximately 7am. The photos keep coming in from various cameras, I have about 80 now, and they just keep getting more and more debauched. Xabi's photos still remain to be uploaded ....so heaven knows what I have yet to be reminded of.

I have just been saying to Jose that I don't know what I am going to do once the wedding is over because I really am obsessed with it - I do nothing else but plan it and dream about it. He says we shall have to make a baby and then I can obsess about that.

It is San Juan today, summer solstice to you Brits, and that seems to mean that fireworks have to go off every three minutes here in Barcelona. They are starting to annoy me now because I can't see any pretty colours in the sky, I just hear what sounds like constant shooting to me. I feel like I am in Irak rather Barcelona.

I am going to sign off now and find my Peru photos and get those to you.

Hasta luego

S xx

photos

Hen and Stag

Hola blogers,

I know I still haven't bloged re Machu Pichu. I will do, and I'll put some photos up. However, this weekend Jose and I had our joint stag and hen do on his farm. We had an amazing time. There were approximately 35 of us, plus the 2 DJs and the two surprise guests who turned up later!

I had been to England on Thursday to get an Ampostille of the Hague stamped on my birth certificate (in order for it to be accepted over here in Spain as a Kosher document). Anyways, thats where my fun started. I timed my visit to enable me to watch the England v Trinidad and Tobago game with the old footy possee on my old street in London. Great fun! I then went and stayed with my friend Nena who I haven't seen for ages. It was so nice to see her and her gorgeous son Kai who impressed and shocked me as he was walking and talking (he's only 16 months old). He's so beautiful. He, Nena and I went to a little city farm on Friday morning and then to one of my old favrourite Islington haunts for lunch (Gallipoli).

Friday evening I flew back to Spain with Maren and Jason and Camilla and Ed - the four who were coming out to Spain for the joint stag and hen do. We met Jose at the airport and then went into Tarragona to have tapas and wine and listen to Jason's repetoir of Spanish (with a New York accent!). Very funny. As usual, my guests were impressed with Tarragona, the buildings, the lifestyle and the very good cheap tapas and wine. No one is every left wondering why I have moved here! Jose normally makes it obvious in any case.

Maren and Jason stayed in Tarragona for the night - to be able to look around there the next day. The rest of us headed for the farm.

Saturday was pretty chilled through the day. We went on a bike ride, looked around the farm, picked veggies, lazed around and were fed amazing paella made by Jose. After a little siesta, we were joined by Jose's cousins from Navarra, and then by two likely looking lads who were to be the DJs. We were left in no doubt of their ability to pump up the volume upon their arrival - they arrived in typical wide boy style, skidding along the gravel drive with blaring music. They turned out to be harmless enough though. They and I decided where we were going to hang the disco balls and lights and they got to work setting everything up before disappearing for a couple of hours.

Little by little people started arriving and the barbeque got underway - thanks to Eduardo (Jose's cousin). He was really great with organising and watching over the BBQ. It might have been chaos without him - because the drinks area certianly was. Whilst everyone else was enjoying their sausages, Jose and I were suddenly blindfolded and sat down next to each other ....to be handcuffed together! I managed to slide my skinny hand out of them and had, what I thought was, the last laugh - but no - they just put them on even tighter the second time (which hurt actually!). We went around like that for a while and then jose got his brother to loosen it a little ......and once again I found a way to slide out. Ha ha!

The DJs returned at 11pm and got the party really going. Everyone was great - no nervous hanging round the edges but straight over to the dance area. I think the copious amounts of alcohol helped most people on their way.

A few hours into the night once again Jose and I were blindfoled and sat on chairs in the middle of the dance floor. This time with our backs to each other. We were joined by two surprise guests. Strippers! Well, they weren't exactly stripers because they didn't take any clothes of - but they weren't exactly wearing many clothes in the first place! They were a good laugh actually - they just made us dance with them and take shots of alcohol from test tubes which they put in their mouths and we had to pass to ours. All good fun! They then got all the guests in the same way - which I found amusing!

The DJs were supposed to leave at 3am. They had only be paid until 3am but they asked if they could stay as they were loving it. So the music actually went on until 6.30am! I reckon about ten of us managed to stay up until that time. I was still dancing! We finally all collapsed into our beds at 7am. However, I couldn't actually sleep - because I'd had so much cocacola in my drinks that I was on a caffeine high. It was so annoying. I was knackered the next day. It wasn't too important though as we just went to the beach - perfect weekend!

Its such a shame that more of the Brits couldn't come. I missed them and they missed a great party, and a great opportunity to get to know the spaniards for the wedding. Oh well, less than five weeks now until the next one - the big one!